Caught
by Higurazel
Summary: Thiefshipping (Yami Bakura X Malik Ishtar) - A plot by the pair of miscreants lead them to become the guests of a small town's jail.


_Audio log of holding cells Interrogation Room 2-B._

_Following events of an arrest made after a spate of missing persons, arson, breaking and entering, theft and grave desecration cases._

_Suspect is a young adult male, brown-eyed with white hair, arrested at the scene of one grave desecration with a suspected accomplice._

**Male Officer**: I suppose I don't have to tell you how much trouble you two are in.

**Suspect**: I suppose I don't have to worry about you coming up with a fresh-sounding opening to an interrogation.

**MO**: This isn't the time or the place to be showing off, kid. There's a lot of evidence piling up that places you two at almost every major criminal act perpetrated for this town and its neighbours.

**S**: We do get around, yes.

**MO**: So this is going to go a lot smoother for both of us, and your friend back there too if you co-operate.

**S**: The safe and boring approach. I can't say I've seen much use for it in the past.

**MO**: Perhaps if you could explain what you were doing in the cemetery when we picked you two up tonight.

**S**: Well, if I remember correctly, at the exact moment we were arrested we were in the process of breaking a mausoleum door open with a crowbar.

**MO**: And why was that?

**S**: Because the lock had rusted to the point where it was impossible to pick.

**MO**: No, I mean, why were you breaking into a mausoleum in the first place?

**S**: Well, if you can't figure that out, then I don't hold out much hope for the rest of the police force.

**MO**: Humour me.

**S**: We were breaking into the mausoleum because, as a general rule of thumb, it's a lot easier to steal things when you can reach them.

**MO**: And what were you trying to steal?

**S**: Are you _quite_ simple? The contents of the aforementioned mausoleum.

**MO**: But the only contents would be corpses.

**S**: Ah, I see you do have a neuron or two firing up there. Well done.

**MO**: So the two of you were out to steal a dead body.

**S**: Gross simplification, but fairly accurate.

**MO**: Do I want to know why?

**S**: Oh more than likely not. But then, I suppose you wouldn't have asked that question if that were the case…

**MO**: So, why were you going to steal a dead body?

**S**: We needed a third man for our production of _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead_.

**MO**: Didn't I warn you about showing off?

**S**: Apparently it didn't stick.

**MO**: Well, maybe your little friend back in his cell would be more willing to explain what was happening out there. He seems like he'd break pretty easy.

**S**: I think you're a few years too late for that boat.

**MO**: And what's that supposed to mean?

**S**: It means, when you get him in here, look him in the eye. You've dealt with all manner of… Unseemly individuals, I'm sure. So take a good long look, see if you recognise anything and then tell me whether "breaking him" seems like a good idea.

**MO**: So now we're past being a wise-ass and we're moving onto threats?

**S**: Oh I don't make threats officer, not when I don't need to at least. That was a tiny, idle piece of advice. Don't take it if you don't want to, I suppose it doesn't matter.

**MO**: You do realise that kid back there must weigh about 90lbs and looks like he'd run from a stiff breeze, right?

**S**: Because I'm clearly such a hulking bruiser myself.

**MO**: I'm just saying, if you're trying to lay blame at his feet, it's not going to be easy to swallow. Trying to insinuate he's unhinged, and that he's the mastermind behind all this-

{_An outburst of laughter from the suspect_}

**MO**: Are you finished?

**S**: I'm… I'm sorry. It's just=

{_Another outburst of laughter and the buzz of the intercom_}

**MO**: Get him out of here.

_End Log._

* * *

The holding cell was sparse to say the least. The town was small, and the local law enforcement seemed somewhat poorly funded. They had sent everything they had to track down and catch the thieves in the act, and they still only managed to field what some towns would charitably call a "bare minimum". In other words, the fact that the police had found room in their budget for a bedframe was a small miracle. Personally, Bakura wasn't sure whether he would have preferred a mattress for it, or for the toilet in the corner to be capable of flushing.

A tiny barred window set high in one wall showed a small portion of the outside world. It was night, or perhaps it was day and the window was a little filthier than Bakura had previously imagined, regardless the size and iron bars meant it wasn't a viable escape route.

"No chance of getting out that way, and no luck tunnelling out," Malik called out, lying on his own bedframe in the adjoining cell. He motioned to a few fragments of plaster on the floor, a handful of gouges in the cement accompanying them. "I think our only hope is to sweet-talk our way out of this."

"Well, best of luck with that," Bakura sighed, taking a seat on his bed. "I think I've been avoidant enough to arouse some suspicion in him, plus I've fed him some stuff on you that should keep him pre-occupied."

"First, we were arrested holding crowbars in a mausoleum, how much more suspicious could he get? And second, what do you mean you fed him some stuff?"

"Well, mostly that you were the mastermind behind the whole spate of crimes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what else did you tell him about me?"

"Nothing of consequence."

Malik gave an exasperated sigh. It was a verbal dance that had gone back and forth countless times before, there'd be no chance of getting more information out of his partner. "I have to admit, I was a little worried." He said after a while.

"About what?"

"That the police wouldn't show up. We must have been waiting there for half an hour before they finally arrived."

"That's not too bad." Bakura said thoughtfully, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

"Says you! That crowbar was heavy."

"Again with this whining. You could have had the lighter one too, but no, you wanted the big, bold model. If I were a psychiatrist I'd be reading right into that, you know."

"Spare me. I think I'd rather talk with the police."

A metallic clang from further up the hallway that ran alongside their cells heralded the approach of their jailer.

"Looks like you get to do both," Bakura chuckled. "Just ask them to be gentle, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I'll see you soon, neighbour." Malik said with a wink.

"That's a good point actually. How did we get adjoining cells? Isn't that a fairly big breach of police conduct? Letting us talk like this while we're being held."

"Oh absolutely," Malik agreed as the guard arrived to unlock his cell. "But then, while I may not be a mastermind, I am very persuasive." He stepped out of his cell and followed the police officer to the interrogation room, his hand resting on the outline of something in his pocket. For a moment, Bakura thought he saw the guard's eyes catch the light. They were dull and glazed over, as though all semblance of life had passed from them long ago…

* * *

_Audio log of holding cells Interrogation Room 2-B._

_Following events of an arrest made after a spate of missing persons, arson, breaking and entering, theft and grave desecration cases._

_Suspect is a young adult male, dark-skinned with blonde hair, arrested at the scene of one grave desecration with a suspected accomplice (See attached audio file 117B)._

**Male Officer**: I suppose I don't have to tell you how much trouble you two are in.

**Suspect**: Yeah, that's great and all, but I think we should probably get this over with quickly. How about a deal? I'll make a full confession, right here and now, and there's only one catch.

**MO**: Well I… I see that you're clearly a lot more compliant than your friend back there.

**S**: Oh, he gets that way sometimes.

**MO**: So, what's the catch?

**S**: Simple. Just take a look at this for me would you?

{_The sound of rustling fabric and a scraping chair_.}

**MO**: What… Is that?

**S**: A little artefact from my home sweet home. The Millennium Rod. Useful little thing, it lends me a helping hand when I need to ask people for certain… _Favours_.

**MO**: Like what?

**S**: Well, from you I would like a list of all the travellers that have stayed and passed through this town in the last few days. Motel records, that sort of thing. We're looking for a group that would have stayed here or nearby not too long ago, foreigners like my friend back there.

**MO**: Anything else?

**S**: After that, you're going to need to let us go and then forget you ever saw us. It would probably be a good idea to turn off that recording while you're at it.

**MO**: Of course.

_End Log._


End file.
